Did someone say sporty?

Rod Kerr gets revved up

TELEGRAPH columnist Peter Dron once suggested that the way to reduce accidents was to promote careful driving by fitting a six-inch metal spike to the centre of every car's steering wheel boss.

While this may seem a bit extreme, I certainly get the point, so to speak.

It's all about risk perception: the safer you feel, the more likely you are to drive dangerously. Sitting in air-conditioned isolation, it's easy to convince yourself that 70mph in a monsoon on a packed motorway is no more hazardous than the same speed on a clear, dry road. As long as the mobile phone and sat-nav are working and you can keep off the central reservation, there's nothing to worry about.

This "womb on wheels" effect produces especially devastating results in conjunction with people who believe that modern technology can defy the laws of physics.

A few years ago, I was given a demonstration of such folly in a narrow country road, the type of ancient sunken lane where 25mph is the safe limit unless you have X-ray vision and vertical takeoff capability.

There I was, approaching a bend at a heady 20mph. Another car leaps from behind the hedge, travelling towards me.

I stop. He doesn't - which isn't a surprise, as he's probably doing at least 50mph.

Other car loses control, bounces off bank and lands on top of mine, going sideways. Crunch, splinter, silence.

No one's hurt (that's why God gave us crumple zones), but Norwich Union's profit margin is about to vanish.

Gargling menacingly with shards of windscreen glass, I peer through the wreckage at my assailant, whereupon he utters the immortal line, "It couldn't have been my fault, I've got ABS brakes!"